hurtful wrote:
With a champagne glass in hand, Riley made a run for it. She could feel eyes watching her as she exited the mansion. It was cool out, and the misty air made the extravagant garden look haunted. She wasn't one for landscaping, but this was something else. Two koi ponds, flowers she'd never seen before and more statues than she cared to count. She took a sip of champagne as she strode down the pathway. It was soothing, walking by herself, letting herself think and for once, not about work.
She found refuge on a bench. The view was pretty, you could see the lake and an impressive boat by the dock. She took another sip. The flavor was so sharp, she could feel it almost burning her lips. That burning sensation of liquor brought back memories she'd promised herself to bury.
Escaping reality by drinking it away, she was familiar with the concept. Her father, whom she no longer had contact with, was an alcoholic. She counted herself lucky despite his bad habits, he'd never abuse anyone but the bottle. But it was worse, in a way. Seeing him waste away before her eyes, Riley imagined being hit would be less painful. She didn't really hear from him anymore, when her mother had gathered enough strength to kick whatever he'd turned into out, Riley was sure he wasn't capable of making anything of himself. He was probably under some bridge burning.
She finished her glass and let the sound of waves clear her mind.
-
Holden felt like an eagle looking for its prey as he strutted around the great rooms. There were too many people, and he soon decided to set up camp by the fireplace, hoping Lou would eventually show up. He was approached by some of his father's old friends. They were drunk, but in a charming way. Well, to him it was charming. He'd imagine their wives thought otherwise judging by their irked glances.
"How's Los Angeles treating you?", One of them asked, handing him a glass of scotch.
"Better than o'l Woody Creeks I bet", another one chimed in.
"Creeks has it charm," Holden said, only to be diplomatic "but Los Angeles is, well, the city of angels", he finished, earning a loud chuckle from the small crowd forming in front of him.
"How's the firm doing? Your father told us about it", One of them asked. Holden closed his mouth. He realized it was probably some lie his father had made up, he had a habit of doing things like that. Holden remembered the day he denied the offer to work at his father's company. He remembered the fear of being cut off for his lack of ambition. Holden's father had been disappointed, but in the end, it didn't really matter that his son was content with the comfortable life his trust fund granted him. His father could still indulge himself by lying about his son's success.
"It's doing alright. Could you excuse me just for a moment?", he asked. Talking to his father's friends as if they were his felt morbid. As if he was trying to be his father. It made him question himself, did he truly want to fill his father's shoes? The answer seemed obvious as he finished the glass of scotch.
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totally understand, take your time! <3 my condolences losing a pet is the absolute worst!)
)
i still want to keep this going in the background of my life and reply whenever i do have the time/energy - how do you feel about it tho?)
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